


A Resolute Kind of Purpose and Loyalty

by yoshizora



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 11:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20424974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Rhea smiles, lifts a hand, and lets it rest heavy upon Shamir’s shoulder. “I believe you’ve properly worked off that debt you say you owe me. You no longer have any obligation to fight for my sake, nor for the Knights of Seiros.”





	A Resolute Kind of Purpose and Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> the cathmir is only briefly mentioned, but this should be read under the assumption that their feelings for each other are blooming but they haven't fully committed to each other at all 
> 
> this takes place maybe about half a year before byleth arrives? idk timeline lmao

Rhea is bowed in prayer when Shamir enters the chapel, quiet by habit and entirely unannounced. Yet the archbishop surely must be aware of her presence, even if she says nothing, even if she doesn’t move, as still as the old saint statues. A ray of moonlight illuminates the dust motes floating around her like bugs. The goddess’s visage smiles down upon both of them, though Shamir spares her no thought nor prayer. 

She waits until Rhea straightens up and turns around. Shadows cast across her face as she begins to walk over.

“Thank you for coming, Shamir,” Rhea smiles. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

There’s been unease with bandits lurking around nearby towns— and Shamir had personally executed (no, not executed, simply assassinated) a good number of them, but they continue to persist and it’s getting… tiresome. Rhea must have summoned her here to command her to exterminate the rest, because they both know Shamir is the most efficient at that sort of thing out of all the knights. 

But Rhea doesn’t speak of bandits, or assassination. 

“It’s been about five years since you’ve joined the Knights of Seiros, hasn’t it?”

Shamir mutely nods. 

“Ah, how time flies…” Rhea tilts her head back, eyes closed, basking in the cold moonlight. Shamir begins to fidget, unused to such a prolonged audience with the archbishop. Rhea knows she doesn’t particularly enjoy smalltalk, and never pushes Shamir to partake in idle conversation. It’s one of those things Shamir appreciates about her. 

“Do you recall the day you swore yourself to the church?” Rhea is looking back at her again. 

“Sure. Like it was yesterday.”

“Yet you’ve never accepted the faith of Seiros.”

“I thought you had no problem with that.”

“I don’t,” Rhea firmly says with a reassuring smile, and she beckons for Shamir to follow her to slowly stroll along the pews. “You’ve served me just as well as any other knight— if not more.” 

“Don’t let Catherine hear you say that. She’ll want to fight me until we’re both on the ground,” Shamir says, dryly, inwardly scoffing at the thought of Catherine bristling at praise from Rhea that isn’t for her. 

But at the thought of Catherine—

Who, despite everything, worked her way past the iron walls Shamir had built around herself—

_Murmuring Rhea’s name into her ear, fast asleep and none the wiser, arms wrapped around Shamir beneath warm sheets_— 

Shamir inhales, exhales, and keeps pace with Rhea. Feelings are a hindrance, mustn’t forget that. Perhaps she’d let her guard down too low these past few years. Catherine, loud and boisterous and always ready to press a palm to the small of Shamir’s back, was just impossible to ignore and even more impossible to hold back. She’s a fool; both of them are fools. Shamir was the bigger fool for disregarding Catherine’s eternal devotion to Rhea when they started what they now have between them.

Rhea is studying her expression, Shamir realizes a split second too late, and she smooths out the wrinkle that must be upon her brow. 

“I could never properly express my gratitude for all you’ve done for me in words alone,” Rhea says, clearly pretending to be none the wiser. 

“I just do what you tell me to do.” 

Her eyes are _piercing._ She knows, surely, that Shamir wouldn’t actually lay down her life for her sake, that she consciously pushes down all thoughts and questions when ordered to eliminate priests and bishops who have become too bold with their oppositions to the main church. She’s not like Catherine. She’s stronger, and weaker, and more liable to wonder.

Shamir finds herself crumbling beneath that piercing gaze, in spite of herself. Words are coming out of her throat. 

“Two moons ago,” she starts. “I was offered a hefty sum by a disgraced lord from the Kingdom to work for him. The one who was embezzling funds from the eastern church, remember?” 

“Ah,” Rhea says, completely unsurprised.

“I guess word got out that one of the Knights of Seiros is actually a hired sword who came from across the sea.” Shamir stares right back into Rhea’s eyes. “I turned him down, of course. Right before killing him.” 

“And how much did he offer?”

“More than you ever did.” 

Rhea smiles, lifts a hand, and lets it rest heavy upon Shamir’s shoulder. “I believe you’ve properly worked off that debt you say you owe me. You no longer have any obligation to fight for my sake alone.”

“Don’t worry about it, Rhea,” Shamir says, gaze cast downward.

“You know, you’re the only one among the knights who doesn’t address me with the usual formalities.”

“I get enough weird glances for not practicing your faith.” 

“I don’t dislike the way you speak to me.” That hand squeezes her shoulder. Shamir doesn’t look up, some sort of feeling welling up in her stomach. Gratitude? Relief? “What you and I have… is different, Shamir.”

Uncertainty? 

“… I haven’t paid back my debt in full,” Shamir says, voice nearly wavering. “You’ve done a lot more for me that’s worth five years of employment. I’m not going anywhere.”

Not for Rhea. Because of Rhea. She’s here only because of Rhea, and she’s here for Rhea. But now she’s here for Catherine and those fleeting nights spent together, even when Catherine mutters the wrong name in her sleep— because of Rhea, but Shamir could never ever hold any resentment. 

That hand upon her shoulder is as heavy as iron. It moves away, only to gently cup her jaw, pulling her to finally look up. Rhea’s face is so close that Shamir could see every little detail in the color of her eyes. 

Then the distance is restored, and Rhea is once again bathed in moonlight. 

“Pray with me just this once, won’t you?” she asks, already making her way to the front of the chapel. “For every lost soul who hasn’t yet found the resolute kind of purpose and loyalty that you possess…”

Shamir bows her head and follows Rhea.


End file.
